Kiss of Fire (Imdalind, #1)(48)

“Since… since I was five,” I whispered, my voice catching.

“You have hid it all this time?” He didn’t wait for an answer; he just crushed me to him again. “Oh, Joclyn, sweetheart.”

Sweetheart? Wasn’t he mad, angry? Wasn’t he going to cast me away?

He crushed me to him even further before releasing me, placing me at arm’s length away from him. His hands held me in place, leaving me nowhere to look but right at him.

“You’re the one. The one they have been looking for. And you were here… No! They have seen it by now.”

“Seen it?” I asked, my confusion growing.

“The cameras, Joclyn; they watch me all the time. You have to get out of here.”

And there it was. My heart sank to my knees and the tears started flowing.

“Leave? Ryland, why? It’s just a mark—it’s nothing. Please say it’s nothing,” I begged him, my hand clenching the front of his shirt in desperation.

“Oh, Joclyn, the mark means everything.”

“Why? I don’t want it. All it has done is ruin my life! I don’t want to leave!” I screamed, my emotions and fear blending together in a boiling pot.

“If you don’t go, they will kill you.”

Wait. Kill? Was he serious? His terror started to seep into me, and as I watched his face, my anger melted into confusion.

“Ryland, what’s going on? I don’t understand.”

Ryland pressed his forehead to mine, his eyes closed in agony.

“I don’t know how to make you understand…”

The blue of his eyes pierced right through me as he looked to something beyond me. His eyes darkened with a heavy determination I wasn’t aware he possessed. “They are coming.”

“Listen very carefully, Joclyn. My father is coming, and if he finds you, he will kill you. I will head them off as long as I can, but you must run.” He kept his head pressed against mine as he spoke, his words tumbling over each other.

“Your father?”

“Take my car and go straight to your mother. Take her and go… go to Ilyan.”

“Ilyan?” I asked. Why were we talking about Wyn’s brother now? What did he have to do with any of this?

“He is tall, has blonde hair and speaks with an accent, correct?”

I could only nod in surprise; how did he know?

“Go to him, show him the mark; he will protect you. I have to… I have to keep you safe, Joclyn. I can’t lose you.”

“I can’t leave you.” I knew I couldn’t; my body screamed at me not to go.

“If we go together, they will hunt us down like dogs. I need to fight them to give you time to escape.”

“Fight?”

“I will find you, Joclyn. I promise. Just go to Ilyan; he will protect you.” He moved his eyes away from mine to press his lips against my forehead, the connection spreading his familiar warmth through my body. It spread through me, stretching to my toes; it filled every part of me with a calm determination, my fear vanishing behind it.

He dragged me to the door, his back straight and his muscles flexing. His hand held mine, neither of us willing to let go. He pressed a small key ring into my other hand.

“To my car, to your mom, to Ilyan,” he repeated. “Say it.”

“To your car, to my mom, to Ilyan.” My voice was small and shaky despite my new-found determination.

“Good. And, no matter what you do, do not take off the necklace.”

The door opened before us, without anyone having touched it. I could hear many running feet through the hallways, the sound getting louder as they moved closer. My heart beat faster in its attempt to escape my chest.

“Run, Joclyn,” Ryland pleaded. “Don’t look back. Run!”





Fifteen


I ran down the hall, a man’s voice yelling behind me. His angry shout ricocheted off the ivory colored walls, echoing in my ears. That one shout was followed by what sounded like a hundred others, but I knew that couldn’t be right.

“Leave her alone!” Ryland’s voice was like a magnet to my heart. It took all of my willpower to not turn around and to just keep running.

“What have you done, son?” Edmund’s cold voice was a palpable thing; its mass, its anger, hitting my back with a tangible force.

I ran to the door of the servants’ corridors and swung it open, slamming it behind me. I didn’t stop to see if it closed. I didn’t stop for one last look at Ryland. I just ran. My feet moved forward of their own accord, taking the steps two or three at a time as I fled down a level toward the garage where Ryland’s car was parked. I had moved about halfway down the staircase when the whole building rocked under my feet.

I was thrown into the metal hand-railing as an explosion shook the building, the loud booming of who-knows-what resounding around me. I stopped and looked back. My heart begged me to go to him, to save him; but what could I do against all those men? What could I do against explosions? I clenched my fist around the key in my hand, the plastic cover pressing into my skin.

I couldn’t go back and help him. I couldn’t. I had to do what he asked. “To the car, to my mom, to Ilyan.”

I burst through the final door into the large garage and looked among what appeared to be hundreds of cars for the yellow Lotus. I spotted it on the far side of the garage and began to move through the vehicles toward the expensive sports car ahead of me. I had only made it partway through the garage when another explosion rocked the space around me. This one was bigger than the last one. I screamed out in fear as I slammed into a turn-of-the-century Ford; pieces of plaster falling from the low ceiling above me.